


Slither Through My Window

by in_deepest_blue



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Tease (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_deepest_blue/pseuds/in_deepest_blue
Summary: The way Aziraphale had pictured things, Crowley would’ve picked up on his cues, like the suggestion to cause some trouble by getting close to people — well, one specific person-shaped being — or the fact that the angel still had plenty of cake to go. But apparently he wasn't clear enough, as Crowley ended up not inviting himself over. Aziraphale supposed it was time to come up with a Plan B. Inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen's "Want You in My Room."
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 119
Collections: Good Omens Lockdown fics





	Slither Through My Window

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation with some friends about how that phone call had major “Want You in My Room” (by Carly Rae Jepsen) vibes. This fic's title is a play on one of the song lyrics: “I wanna do bad things to you; slide on through my window.” Even before that lockdown special was released, I’d already associated CRJ songs with the Ineffable Husbands, but after yesterday? I don’t think I can ever get rid of that association again.
> 
> Thanks to Good Omens, I’ve been able to (very slowly) return to writing fanfics after not doing so for a long, long time! I wrote fanfics here and there in my teens, but getting more into academic writing, then writing articles as a full-time job, seem to have zapped the creative writing out of me. It’s gotten harder for me to 1) find time to write fanfics, and 2) to put my ideas into writing. 
> 
> I actually started writing a couple of Good Omens fics last year, but I still haven’t gotten around to finishing them because of executive dysfunction — overthinking and fretting about those fics. (And I also still have a few other ideas that I haven’t written yet!) But yesterday’s “cake” seems to have awakened something in me. I just sat down to write this, and the words flowed out really quickly! Thank you, Neil, Terry, Douglas, Michael, David (both Tennant and Arnold), and everyone involved in Good Omens, for reigniting the flame!

“Right. Um. I’m setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel.”

And then, silence.  _ Oh, bugger_, Aziraphale cursed inwardly. This wasn’t how he’d hoped the call would go!

The way he’d pictured things, Crowley would’ve picked up on his cues, like the suggestion to cause some trouble by getting close to people. Well,  _ certain _ people… or, more specifically, one specific person-shaped being. And if that still wasn’t enough for Crowley to invite himself over, surely bringing up that he still had plenty of cake to go, and no idea what to do with all of them, would’ve been loud and clear… but apparently not.

To be fair to the poor demon, Aziraphale  _ did _ shoot down Crowley’s offer to hunker down with him. But the angel had expected Crowley to come up with some kind of loophole, the way they always danced around each other until they both found a common groove. Was Crowley really just going to give up that easily? Just retreating to his bed like that — where did the demon think he was going?

_Oh dear, oh dear_ , Aziraphale tutted to himself, as he fretted and paced about the bookshop. He’d told Crowley that he wasn’t miserable, being cooped up with his books and cakes, but if Crowley were to make good on his plan to sleep until June — no, _July_! — then Aziraphale was sure to be miserable and as transcendentally bored as Crowley said he was. 

He and Crowley used to go for decades not seeing each other, but those decades-long periods eventually dwindled to years, then months. Then, after the Apocalypse that wasn’t, they’d forgotten what it was like to not see each other for so long — a couple of weeks of no contact was enough to feel like an eternity.

No, this wasn’t over; this wouldn’t do. Aziraphale reminded himself that he’d stood defiant as the world was about to end. He faced his impending execution with dignity (and even sardonic wit, for added flair!), for crying out loud! Beneath that soft exterior of his lay nerves of steel, just waiting to be  summoned…

...and yet, when it came to Crowley, Aziraphale often found himself holding back. One thing was for sure, his feelings never wavered ever since he realized back in 1941 that what he felt for the demon was love. Aziraphale wanted and yearned for Crowley, he did, but even now that they were on their own side, old habits were hard to break. 

When it came to fearlessly and freely expressing his feelings for Crowley, it was often one step forward, a few steps back. The angel was beyond grateful that the demon was quick on the uptake. Despite the fact that this struggle of Aziraphale’s was something that they had yet to talk about, Crowley was nothing but patient and understanding, never one to resent his angel or push him to just get over his issues.

Aziraphale tried to give himself a pep talk. “Time to be brave, you.” He pressed a portrait of Crowley to his chest for good luck.  _ Here goes nothing. _ He picked up the phone and began to dial.

“What?” came a grumpy voice. “‘M tryin’ to sleep here.”

“It’s me, Crowley.”

A sigh. “Angel, I know what you sound like.”

“Actually, my dear boy, I could use your help with something…” Aziraphale fiddled with his bowtie nervously.

At that, Crowley seemed to perk up. “Well, spit it out, then.”

“You see, there are only so many cookbooks in the bookshop. I fear I’m about to run out of recipes! And they’re all so… so European! I love a good Jaffa cake or some Baumkuchen, but I’m sure there are countless other recipes for breads and pastries out there. Naan, roti canai, shao bing, ensaymada...”

“Uh-huh. I’m not sure how I can help you with that, angel, seeing as I don’t own any cookbooks.”

Lord help him (if she was even listening), Aziraphale needed strength. “Well…” Aziraphale began, “Remember when you tried to introduce me to Your Tube and Net Films last year? That bake-off show — what was it called again? — was quite lovely. Looking back on it now, I wonder why I didn’t take up baking much sooner.”

“It’s ‘YouTube’ and ‘Netflix,’ angel. I’m still not following.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if his dear demon was genuinely being obtuse, trying not to go too fast for him, or what. Had the boredom gotten to him that badly, that it was starting to impair his mental functions? “As you know, Crowley, I’m not up to speed with modern technology, yet you keep telling me that there’s an entire world waiting for me on the internet. In other words, Crowley, I need your technological expertise.”

All that followed was a garbled sound, much like “ _Ngk_.”

Minutes of silence passed, but just as Aziraphale was about to ask if Crowley was still on the line, the demon cautiously piped up, “So you’re saying… that you want me over? But you said… you said… it was out of the question!”

“Coming over just to watch me eat simply wouldn’t do, would it? What kind of example would we be setting, having a house party, even if it’s just for two? This is different! I’m rather in a  _ pinch _ here, and surely there’s nothing wrong with extending a helping hand, especially since we can’t catch the virus or infect others…”

Crowley laughed. “Well-played, you bastard. Yeah, ‘suppose I could hold your hand — ngk, I meant that figuratively, of course — as you browse the ‘net. Japanese souffle pancakes are all the rage on TikTok right now; you’d love ‘em. Apparently they’re soft and fluffy. Much like you, thinkin’ ‘bout it. Uh. Forget I said that last part.”

“I’ve never had those before! Those sound lovely! You could be the first to taste-test them. My poor hapless victim…” Aziraphale giggled.

“Yeah, I’d be taking one for the team. A real martyr, me.”

“And like I said, I have more than enough cake to go. It’d be a sin to let them go to waste! Not to mention, having someone to help makes for a more thorough cleaning than just miracling everything tidy…” If Crowley were with the angel right then and there, he definitely wouldn’t miss the twinkle in the angel’s eyes!

“You could donate those spare cakes to food banks, y’know. I’m the demon, yet I’m the one bringing this up. Unbelievable.” Aziraphale could practically hear the fond exasperation in Crowley’s voice.

“Yes, I’ve already been doing that, among other things!” Aziraphale huffed. “Just because I’m not out in town performing miracles doesn’t mean I’m not helping out from the bookshop! But I still have far more cakes than I can eat on my own. My point is… just get a wiggle on already, you daft demon!”

“Only teasing, angel. Patience is a virtue, as you keep saying. But yeah, fine, just gimme a moment to get ready.” Aziraphale heard a rustling noise, as if Crowley was making his way out of bed.

“Fantastic! Of course, we wouldn’t want to set a bad example, so… perhaps you could slither through my window? A clandestine meeting like something from the Shakespearean era; how wonderful!”

Crowley snorted. “Leave it to you to make simple things complicated. Ah, but speaking of ol’ Will, some of the Globe Theater’s plays are now watchable online. The internet sure is an amazing thing, huh?”

“Hmph. I still think modern contraptions are so needlessly complicated, but I’m looking forward to discovering the wonders of the internet with you, dear boy.”

“Sure, so long as I get to pick the entertainment every so often. Can’t wait to introduce you to _Tiger King_.”

“Sounds fair to me.”

“Nah, ‘m kidding; you’d hate me for all eternity if I ever made you watch that. I think you’d love _The Good Place_ , though. But hey, ‘nuff talking, else I’ll never get to slither over to your place.”

The giddiness in Aziraphale’s voice was palpable at that point. “Well then, mind how you go, dear boy.”

“Good thing you’re just a few years late to find out what ‘Netflix and chill’ means. See you in a bit, angel.”


End file.
